“This button will send you back.”
“Back where?” Finn felt a jolt of fear. What if this wasn’t a dream? He studied his arm again. Then his other arm. He looked down at his legs. His whole body was glowing and vaguely translucent.
“Back to bed,” Wayne answered.
“So it is a dream? I thought so.”
“It’s not a dream.”
Finn saw a pair of four-foot-tall chipmunks come out of the castle. They walked down a path and turned left, toward Toontown. He felt himself staring. He recognized them.
“What?” Wayne asked excitedly.
“Nothing,” Finn answered.
“You saw something!” he practically shouted into Finn’s ear, causing Finn to jump back, startled.
Wayne leaped up, suddenly years younger. He pulled Finn to his feet.
“You saw something!” he thundered.
“Hey! What’s the big deal?”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“You saw it too!” Finn told him.
“Which character?”
Finn felt relief. Wayne knew Finn had seen a character, which had to mean he’d seen it too. He was clearly playing some kind of game, making Finn actually name the character, but Finn was good at games.
“Which character did you see?” Finn asked.
“You want me to push this button?” Wayne threatened.
Did he? Finn wasn’t sure. If it was a dream, the black remote-control fob represented a way out. When was the right time to use it? He hoped to stretch this out a minute longer. It was fun here.
He glanced around at the sound of footsteps. Goofy went tearing past them, not thirty feet away, and headed into Frontierland.
Wayne never moved. Never looked in Goofy’s direction.
“You’re playing head games with me,” Finn said.
“Am I?”
“Goofy,” Finn said.
“Are you asking me if I’m goofy? I’ve been called worse.” Wayne studied Finn. His old leathery face brightened as he said, “You saw Goofy!”
Maybe Wayne needed a hearing aid—he seemed prone to fits of shouting.
Finn backed off. “Yeah. So what? You would have too, if you’d bothered to look.”
Wayne probably couldn’t hear all that well. He obviously hadn’t heard Goofy’s footsteps, because he hadn’t turned toward the sound.
Finn decided to test Wayne. “Chip and Dale,” he said. “You saw them, right?”
“You saw Chip and Dale?” He made it sound like Finn had won the lottery. What was with that?
“I, ah…This is getting a little weird. I think I want to go back now.” Finn heard himself repeat some of what Wayne had told him, though the words didn’t fit in his mouth all that well. It sounded to him like someone else doing the talking.
“I’ll push the button, if you like. But I have to warn you….” Wayne fiddled with the nametag pinned to his uniform.
“Warn me about what?”
“What you’ll be missing. The park after dark. Basically all to yourself. The attractions operate day and night. Not many people know that.”
“Now I know I’m dreaming.”
“But you aren’t,” Wayne explained. “Are you forgetting your arm?”
Finn studied his arm once more. “I’ll admit, that is…interesting. It’s almost like—” Finn caught himself.
“Like you’re glowing,” Wayne said in an all-knowing, I-told-you-so tone of voice.
“Am I?”
“What might account for that?” Wayne inquired.
Finn understood somehow that a lot hung on his answer—his imagining this place, or dreaming it, or whatever was happening to him. His ability to stay here. To return. He wasn’t quick to answer. He didn’t want to face what Wayne was suggesting.
“I give up,” he said.
“No, you don’t,” Wayne protested. “You never would have been chosen for this if you were the kind who gives up on things. You’re a finisher, Finn. That’s what I liked about you from your first audition tape.”
Stunned by what the old guy had just said, Finn felt his mouth go dry. How did Wayne know about his audition tape? Exactly how complicated could a dream get?
“Who are you?” Finn blurted out.
“I’m Wayne. I work here. I was one of the first people hired by Walt Disney to imagine this park. The rides, the attractions. They call us Imagineers.”
“You knew Walt Disney?” Finn tried not to sound impressed.
“He was my boss, you might say. At any rate, he’s the reason I’m here. The reason you’re here.”
“Me?”
“I know this can’t be easy.”
“It’s a dream,” Finn said, thinking, What’s so hard about a dream?